


Color Me Love

by Tutti_writes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 18OI AU Week 2020 (Yuri!!! on Ice), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Artist AU, Artist yuuri, Barista Yuuri, Blind Character, Deaf Character, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Reviewer Victor Nikiforov, The language of color, coffee shop AU, prose, someone tell me what day of the event this falls under, sounds much sadder than it is, there is an actual app for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tutti_writes/pseuds/Tutti_writes
Summary: Victor has felt the wind but never heard it.Yuuri has heard the thunder but has never seen lightning strike.They both have felt the rain.Or a semi Coffee shop AU where Victor is deaf and Yuuri is blind but nothing in any universe will stop them from falling for each other.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 36
Kudos: 154
Collections: 18OI AU Week 2020





	Color Me Love

**Author's Note:**

> 1801 Au Event 2020 Week
> 
> coming in on the final bell!!!
> 
> Coffee Shop AU  
> Based off of this prompt list found here:  
> [AU Prompt](https://twitter.com/FuriousSnow/status/1269584150106783744?s=20)

“I'll need heart and you'll need courage / We all need time.”

[Precious Time-The Maccabees](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9q2lQ39ALGI)

Victor didn’t hear the jingle of the bell as he stepped through the narrow threshold. He didn’t flinch at the startled woman’s hiccupped screech at the call of her name. The sunburst giggling the baby bouncing on her mother’s lap at the table closest to the “Order Here” sign didn’t alarm nor warm him. He merely walked forward, subtly coasting his finger over his brow before he flicked the strands of bangs from his eyes, the flourish finishing with a just on the cusp of sin wink as he approached the counter.

Nothing happened.

He stood, dumbstruck, hand on his hip, staring at the black tousles flailing out over the crown of the barista at the register. This should have worked. He perfected this routine over and over. No matter where he went, he shook his hair like pulling back a silver curtain and winked as the final show before pulling at his phone and pointing to the screen. He’d flash the billboard plastered smile and point to the picture of the drink he wanted. The person over the counter would delight, opening their mouth in what Victor assumed was a giggle, or a laugh, and nod before punching the numbers for the cinnamon late with two extra shots of expresso.

Victor knows how laughter feels even if he’s never heard it.

Yet, no matter what angle he turned his head, he couldn’t catch the eyes. One side, the other, crouching down, perching on his tip toes; every turn only ended in the barista twisting his head to further hide. Pensive, Victor pulled his finger against his chin, pursing his lips as he considered his options. In no world would he attempt to wrangle his vocal cords and push out whatever monstrosity of a sound his unused mouth could muster. His eyes roved over the counter, searching for the pin of a possibility in the haystack of stacked “easy listening” cd’s, whatever ease that was it certainly did nothing to ease him, assortments of packaged baked goods, and a particularly oddly placed wooden kabuki doll. Just as the sensation of giving up and retreating tinged at the very back of his mind, he saw it. An old guest pad nestled next to the register, a bouquet of pins sticking out of a painted pot next to them.

The pages crinkled as he picked up a pad, nabbing the pen along with it. Victor drew a small round face, with a large heart for a mouth, and two curved dashes for eyes before writing: _I’m Victor Nikiforov, the restaurant reviewer!_ Sliding it over, he offered his sincerest, saccharine leaded smiles. Perhaps sweetness would work to hold the attention long enough to make the connection. Victor really, vehemently, didn’t want to use the d-word, written or signed. He thoroughly detested the pitied infused long stares. He made it this long on charisma alone. No one ever resisted his charm. Not that he’d be able to hear if they said they didn’t care for him, anyways.

As the paper crunched into the barista’s arm, Victor attempted a polite plea in his eyes. _Don’t make me say it,_ Victor begged into the ether, drawing a raspy breath. In response, the barista swung his arm high, fist slamming down on the counter, the heavy pounding shaking Victor’s hand where he held them. For the first time, Victor noticed all the heads of people snapping up, customers gawking to see the scene. Probably gasping too, by the O shapes of their mouths. What was this person’s problem?

Two bright bubbly brown eyes met Victor’s as a woman looked over to them from her stance on the espresso machine. She, too, made the gasping face, and what Victor would give to be able to hear it. She frantically shut the machine off, rushing over to place her hands gently on the man in front of him, look over his shoulder. The woman offered an apologetic smile, taking the pad of paper and pen. In a few moments, she scribbled something beneath Victor’s writing and handed the pad back over.

_I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Nikiforov._

_I should have been watching for your arrival better._

_Yuuri’s can’t see your gestures. He’s blind._

_I’m Yuuko, I’d be happy to assist you._

Victor’s mouth couldn’t gape any wider than if he’d tied a leather band on either of his lips and pulled. He read it again. Then three times. Then once more. He watched Yuuko mouth words he couldn’t discern from her lips alone into Yuuri’s ears. The give of Yuuri’s bulletproof stance stuttered, fingers vibrating the counter from their tremble. Suddenly, Yuuri whipped his head up, meeting Victor’s general direction. In the full face of the day, Victor saw it; the soft features and softer looking lips, the delicate dip the turned his nose into an adorable button, and those eyes. Though they still couldn’t catch his gaze, Victor would remember them always. He could feel them.

Within a few more notes and a point to his tried and true picture, he sat eagerly waiting at the corner table, book fixed between his fingers. Fresh ground coffee beans fluttered their butterfly aromas all around, every intake of breath as heavenly as the next. Finally situated, Victor began taking in the ambiance of the café. It truly marketed itself as unique, subdued, even a bit eccentric to the usual shops he frequented. Not that it didn’t have the hallmarks of a good coffee shop; exquisite machinery, glass encased fresh baked goods, but the character of the place felt like home. Built in bookshelves reminded Victor of the bookstores on nearly every part of St. Petersburg. The royal blue walls painted the shop rich and welcoming, and he felt himself settle more and more into the high padded back of the chair like his sofa at home. In the ease of the gauzey curtains ruffling from the breeze, he relaxed, setting his book down and revealing the masterpiece behind it.

There, in front of Victor, hung a painted rose on canvas in a simple wooden frame. Not just any rose, but a blue rose with unparalleled majesty. Each petal spiraled one against the other, wrapping over and over like an embrace reaching for the warmth of the sun. It would sing to him if he could only hear it.

The glass hit heavy on the table, knocking gently against Victor’s knuckle. With a begrudged groan, Victor diverted from his trance on the painting long enough to glance down and see the wide porcelain cup. He beamed; arms outstretched as he looked at the white wiggling scene atop his latte. The foam curled around an intricate set of lines all culminating to a furry character in the middle, two dots for eyes, and a round circle for a snout. A poodle! Victor flew his hands up against his cheeks. How cute! Whoever did the design must know about Makkachin. He grinned as he lifted the cup, delighted at the poodle shaking with the same enthusiasm as his own poodle. The taste was nearly as awe catching as the picture, every note rolling on his taste buds bold and sweet and altogether perfectly nutty. He sunk into the feeling, rubbing his hand on his stomach as the universal sign of, “Vkusno!” just long enough to remember. He stopped, leaning over to spot Yuuri at the register, nodding to another customer. Well, maybe not completely universal.

As the last bit of coffee dripped down his throat, he realized he spent the entire time transfixed on the painting. Every time he glanced up; a new shade of blue appeared. If he turned his head to the side, it was a bright cobalt. If he lifted his head further, the light brought out the rich sapphires. The petals contained a life of their own. He couldn’t look away. So much so, he didn’t catch Yuuko coming in his peripherals until he shot up out of his skin when she appeared from thin air. When his head knocked against the beam above him, he realized she was neither a magician nor an apparition. She wiggled the phone in her hand, the welcoming smile on her face enough the melt the iciest heart.

He obliged her, taking the phone from her hand to read the note on the screen:

_I wanted to apologize, again. Yuuri feels terrible._

_He thought it was a cruel joke. He embarrasses easily._

The cruel joke was on the universe, not on either of them. He lifted his phone from the table, pointing it in gesture over to the chair opposite him. She sat down easily enough, her smile never wearing while Victor typed on his screen before handing it over. 

_No apologies needed. It was a misunderstanding. That’s all._

_Compliments for the foam designs! They’re amazing!!!_

Victor offered his own wide grin, tilting his head while waiting for a response. He leaned back more into the chair, looking past to once again stare at the painted rose. A gentle tap against the table and his phone screen faced up at him, and he blinked twice as he read the text:

_Thank you, but it wasn’t me. Yuuri does the artwork._

He typed his reply in seconds, hastily plopping the phone in front of Yuuko.

_Really? How?_

She looked up at him, a knowing smile on her face. Her chest heaved a short blip and Victor attributed it to a short laugh or an amused sigh, the anticipation driving him to the brink of madness as she thumbed her answer. He never picked up his phone faster.

_He designs from things he knows. He had a poodle as a child, so he learned to draw them. But his art comes from music, like the painting you’ve been staring at all afternoon._

The phone slipped from his hands, bouncing on the table as Victor’s jaw dropped. He looked right at Yuuko as she affirmed with a nod that, Yes, yes Yuuri really did paint that. A few stunned seconds ticked by before Victor could get a grip back on his faculties. The world and all his conceptions melted into a hot liquid and reformed in the fire of this moment. Grabbing his phone, he tapped along the keyboard, inwardly grunting at all of his fumbling as he tried to get the words out. A single prayer leaving his soul as he handed the phone back over.

_Wow! Would he…can he…talk to me, some way? Could you help us?_

Yuuko’s eyes swept over the screen, her smile widening with each moment. With a quick bob for an answer, she sprang up, her feet lifting in a near skip as she went over to the counter. Victor craned his head, trying to get a glance at Yuuri’s response, while his fingers retightened his tie. He flattened his palm smoothing the edges of silk until it was as creaseless and perfect as the flawless peached skin of the man coming up to him. Yuuri was even cuter than the split-second glance he remembered him by, even with him worrying his bottom lip. 

Some words mouthed by Yuuko to Yuuri as she guided his arm to the chair across form him, pulling another up so she sat in the middle. She pulled a pen and another order pad from her apron, setting them in front of Victor.

He scribbled some words down.

_I collect fine art. I wanted to compliment you on your blue rose. I love paintings!!!_

Yuuko tried her best to impersonate the exuberance of the last line, and Victor watched Yuuri grin, speaking something before Yuuko tore the piece of paper to write words on the next.

_Why do you love paintings? (Yuuri also should have thanked you for the compliment, so thank you.)_

Victor chuckled inwardly before writing beneath.

_You don’t need to hear to appreciate art. You feel it._

Yuuri’s face contorted as he listened to Yuuko read the words. The corner of his mouth twitched subtly, and Victor wondered what he said to gain that reaction. His face was emotionless as he spoke the next works, rendering Yuuko a pause at whatever he said before she started translating.

_Really? What do you feel when you look at this painting?_

He simply smiled before writing down his answer.

_Love._

Yuuko’s cheeks tinged pink as she read it out loud, but not nearly the deep flush of Yuuri, a candy apple red scorched over even his nose.

_And what color is love?_

Victor read over the question, debating. Any color could be love, if you looked at it in the right light.

_There? It’s blue._

Yuuri raised his hand in irritation at Yuuko, saying something which Victor couldn’t make out with how fast their lips moved. Maybe they weren’t even speaking English. Victor hadn’t considered that until he watched their tongues rapidly flicking in and out while they spoke back and forth. Yuuko shook her head, though she snuck a smile and a bemused glance at Yuuri as she wrote out his response.

_I’m not asking about the painting. I’m asking you. What is the exact color of love?_

Could he pinpoint the exact shade of love? Sure, red was easy, but red lost all meaning as he looked at Yuuri’s wandering eyes. Pink? Violet? White was pure but that’s not all love encompassed. There were dark parts of love, muck to tread through to get to the satin rush of attachment and not just the frenzy of hot and sweaty balms of lust fueled by attraction. He’d felt all of them at one point, but never in one singular color, nor person. Victor tapped the pen to his lip one more time before returning to the page.

_I’m not sure. Maybe you can paint for me and I’ll find out._

Yuuri’s jaw dropped at the words. The cutest crinkle in his brow before the words caught up to him. Even without hearing Victor could see the stutter on his tongue as his eyebrows raised, clearly near shouting from the few customers who turned their heads before Yuuko slid over the pad.

_What do you want painted?_

Easy. What Victor always wanted. What no one he’d ever commissioned had been able to capture.

_The seasons, as they happen. Starting with spring._

Yuuri’s body drooped hearing Yuuko’s words

_I...Don’t think I could paint a landscape very well._

Victor tried again.

_I could describe it to you._

Yuuri’s face fell into his hands, blocking any view of expression for Victor the glean anything from. He watched Yuuko nodding lightly, jotting down the words beneath.

_Why? I’m just someone who paints art in a coffee shop. (He’s not. He’s been asked to do galleries before and turned them all down) Anyone with sight could paint a landscape!_

No, they couldn’t. Victor could no longer count the number of landscapes lining the walls of his room. Different places, different settings. Each as pretty as the next, but none caught his eyes a tenth of a much as that rose had. He buried the bittersweet frown as he gave the paper back to Yuuko.

_Not like this_

Yuuko didn’t even turn the paper before she wrote his reply.

_Why?_

Victor grinned through every pen strike.

_Because you feel it._

The chair slid out and Yuuri was gone before Victor could even blink. Only a swish of black and a swinging door on the other side of the room gave Victor any indication of where Yuuri ran off to. Victor felt whiplashed in his heart. What was it that made Yuuri disappear?

Yuuko offered a slew of condolences on the pad before she, too, went behind the door. In the grainy daze of the aftermath, Victor sat, stunned out of thought for the second time today. All of the flashes of Yuuri played in motion over and over again as Victor held his head in his hand, elbow resting on the table. The place was certainly earning a five-star review for the most alluring, confusing man on the planet.

Lost in the recesses of his mind, Victor barely registered the second cup drifting past his face and setting a few centimeters from it. Traces of cinnamon tugged him from his haze. He looked down, finding a new cup and design within the frothy white top.

Victor gently tapped Yuuko’s arm as she turned, his face twisting more perplexed with every look from the lines in the foam and back to Yuuko. She drew her hand over her mouth vibrating with a giggle as she pointed over to Yuuri, and then back down to the cup. It took two more looks and finally it clicked. Oh! It was Yuuri’s number!

Before he could even think, he was pressing the buttons and hitting send.

_< <<HI!!!!_

_< <<It’s Victor!_

_< <<From the Coffee Shop!_

_< <<Not from the Coffee Shop. But the guy you met at the coffee shop. _

_< <<I’m still at the Coffee Shop!!!_

_< <<I’m Just leaving!_

As the door shut behind Victor, it hit him, but not before he’d sent another reply.

_< <<OMG! You can’t read text!!!_

All of the excitement curdled into a sour mix of dread and disappointment. Hot air billowed in a white plume of deflation as Victor sighed out the lamentations drugging his mind raw and ragged. He made a fool of himself not once, but twice to the most adorable man he’d ever met. The phone buzzing in his hand brought him out of his stupor long enough to go wide eyed at the name on the screen: Yuuri.

_> >>I can text. I have an app. _

_> >>I umm wanted to take you up on your offer._

Victor would have shouted for joy if he could make the sound.

**

With spring just beginning, the park birthed new life everywhere Victor stepped. Blossoms sprung from the bushes along the path, ducklings waddled behind their mothers. Victor walked behind, jumping with excitement as he felt his phone buzz.

_> >>I’m here_

A map popped up beneath the text, a blue dot marking Yuuri’s location, just a few paces from where he stood.

_< << I see you!_

Bright eyed and near combusting with enthusiasm, Victor waved. Then stopped midair, smacking his fist against his forehead before pulling his phone out again.

_> >>Uhm…You can touch my shoulder to say hello._

_> >>Do you remember our agreement?_

Victor’s fingers rested gingerly on the tip of Yuuri’s shoulder, but he still felt the shiver at the touch. How could he forget?

_< <<I’m not allowed to look at any of the paintings until you’ve finished them all. _

_> >>And?_

Victor grimaced, removing his fingers to hold his phone properly. Pouting would be of no use here.

_< << I’m not allowed to pay you until I’ve seen them._

Everyday for the next week, they met as the same location. A gentle breeze sent the long blades of grass tickling his toes as he lay beneath the tree, his thumbs describing the scenery around. He looked over, watching Yuuri smile as he swept the brush over the page.

_< <<How do you know what I’m saying? _

Victor had to know; it’d been plaguing him the last few days.

_> >>It plays through the speaker on my phone._

Yuuri’s answer shot back at him as quickly as it sent.

_< <<So, when I talk to you, I have a voice? _

_> >>Yes, Victor._

_> >> I like hearing you. You sound nice. _

Victor spent the rest of spring in the coffee shop, watching Yuuri hear his voice over and over again.

**

In summer, as the breeze swept over the beach, Yuuri painted the white clouds in the languid blue-sky Victor described. (Which, when asked what white felt like, Victor has described as “a cotton shirt on a hot day” and earned him a hummed smile in response.) While he was mid-sentence detailing the wingspan of the seagull, explaining how they reminded him of home, Yuuri asked a question.

_> >>What color are my eyes?_

Yuuri words lit up on the screen in front of him. Drawn from the simple words, Victor walked over, the grains of sand silencing each step until he could place an asking touch on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri accepted with a gracious, but hesitant nod. One of the sweetest gestures Victor had ever seen. Victor reached up to cradle Yuuri’s face in his hand, stroking the soft satin skin with his thumb as he sought for the words to describe. So many colors simmered and shimmered in his eyes. The brimming embers of mahogany, the richness of brown, the headiness of wine all flashed dizzyingly before him. The colors Yuuri put in his paintings matched the depth of his eyes. A stoked fire of beauty burning ever before him. The layers stared limitless at him, never quite reaching the hold. No matter how many hues shifted and twisted, one color remained tenacious to the changing tides of Yuuri’s eyes.

_< <<Red. _

Victor let the word fall from his fingers before hitting send.

>>> _What does red feel like?_

<<< _Warmth. Passion._

_< << You._

Victor spent the rest of the summer watching Yuuri’s red eyes set ablaze his soul.

**

In fall, when the last budding green had finally given over to the amber hues bleeding out their life before dormancy, Victor crouched over the stone bench, pondering what leaves sounded like when you stepped on them. He drifted so far in thought, he neglected telling Yuuri anything about the long branches and pops of fire gradient leaves.

He laid in his curious state until thin, delicate fingers stretched through his bangs. The back of his head drew back as he flinched, looking up to find Yuuri’s seeking hand retract like touched a flame.

 _< <<What are you doing? _Victor asked before guiding Yuuri’s hand back to his face. Whatever he was up to, Yuuri’s hand was a welcomed touch.

Yuuri paused only long enough to get a reply before running his hand down Victor’s neck, mouth falling open just a little as he rounded his shoulders and came back up again.

_> >> I want to feel what you look like. _

_< <<My hair is silver_

_Y_ uuri smiled down at him, fingers threading through his hair like he was spinning silk.

_> >>Mmmm…what does silver feel like?”_

_< <<My mother used to say my hair reminded her of the sweetest song._

_> >>Mhm. I agree, it must be the most beautiful song in the world._

Victor spent the rest of fall listening to the song in his heart every time his hair blew in the wind.

**

Snow wasn’t common, but it rushed in the cold winter's night before Victor met Yuuri for their next session. White stretched over as far as the eye could see from the window Victor sat against. He changed from looking at the glistening mounds outside to watching Yuuri in the corner of the room, just dipping his brush into the wet paint.

>>>What does winter sound like?

Yuuri paused as he listened to the text, brows knitting together like he was sewing the pieces of the question to make sense. Victor wondered for a moment if Yuuri had transformed into a manikin with how still he was until Victor’s phone vibrated against his leg.

>>>Silence. Like all the world is still beneath a blanket.

>>>Safe. Like you.

Victor realized why he liked winter, and Yuuri, so much.

***

As the last vestiges of winter sloughed off into spring again, Yuuri told Victor he finished the paintings. Victor bowed respectively as the last customer retreated from the shop,breathing in the aroma of a percolating beann. His excitement once more bubbled over as finally, Yuuri stood in the door, hand outstretched. Victor withheld the urge to make a “blind leading the blind” joke as Yuuri told him to close his eyes before he led them into the shop. He waited, cautiously treading with toed steps until Yuuri’s hand drifted away from his touch. His phone vibrated, then vibrated again, and again until Victor felt a nudge on his elbow.

>>>Okay, open.

>>>Victor?

>>>Oh, right, I told you not to look.

His eyes opened, and as he looked, so did his heart. Instead of a wide landscape, several canvases lined the room, each bringing the focus to one small part of the season. The open beak of the duckling crying to its mother made Victor’s chest rumble with a bright, springy quack itself. Victor could almost hear the summer cicadas and the seagull cries he only could read about. The leaves floated off the fall trees allowed him to feel the whistling wind blowing them to the ground. And winter, oh winter. The snow lay as silent as Victor felt.

>>>What do you think?

What did he think? No words could relay the message strong enough. Entranced, amused, and so surprised he could leap into the air and spin four times before landing. He lunged, pressing his lips to Yuuri’s as his arm wrapped around his head. He lingered there, the heat warming him to his toes. Just as he was about to pull away, he felt Yuuri’s hands grip the back of his pair, breaking any distance between them. Chest against chest, arms entangled while their lips searched one another. Victor slid his lips over Yuuri’s, smiling to feel Yuuri’s lips welcoming him in, open and wanting to discover deeper.

Couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, it didn’t matter, they felt. Felt the soft ridged tastebuds, the wet heat of the mouth. Every kiss a language they both understood without needing anything else between them. Here, feeling, they found each other.

Victor’s mind swarmed. All the colors alive and breathing, swirling in the dreamspace behind his eyes. White as pure as Yuuri’s snow fallen skin. Black as dark and sinful as the lust brewing from every slip of Yuuri’s tongue on his own. And red. The red of Yuuri’s eyes, his lips, his mouth, his soul. Every turn and twist washing over him red, red, red until the curtain behind his closed eyes was a velvet crimson.

As quick as it came, Victor broke the kiss, only wanting to dive back in as Yuuri’s mouth hung open, bottom lip trembling with a question. He had to tell. He knew now. He knew the answer. He tapped Yuuri’s thigh with his phone in an attempt to convey what he was doing as he typed frantically on the screen.

<<< _Yuuri! I know the answer to the question! The love color question!!_

_> >>What color is love? _

Yuuri cocked his head at the same time he sent the question.

_< <<Red._

_> >>Why?_

Victor knew.

_< <<Because love is you._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> I'm considering writing Yuuri's POV. 
> 
> If you'd like to read it, let me know in the comments. :)


End file.
